


Tick of Time

by fangirl_squee



Category: The Thrilling Adventure Hour
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 03:06:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2716592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank Doyle's time is running out until he meets Sadie Parker. The universe puts time on hold for true love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tick of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this au: http://liamdapuppybear.tumblr.com/post/81795139512/zanetehaiden-brian-was-being-nice-to-you-and where the amount of years you have left alive is visible to other people.
> 
> Thanks to Sophie, for betaing and for being the recipient of many, many messages about this.

The first time Frank bumps into Pterodactyl Jones on the job, PJ’s eyes flick to the number on his forehead. Frank’s not overly worried by the motion, it’s a reflexive reaction more than anything when you haven’t seen someone in a while, checking in with how much time they have left.

 

And then PJ’s face goes _concerned_ , Frank figures his time must be coming up. Which is … Fine. Really, it is. Frank’s never given it much thought, honestly. He’s seen enough of the life hereafter to know that when it’s your time it’s _your time_ , and a short run tends comes with the territory of ghost hunting, after all.

 

PJ manages to hold off on saying something about it until they’re parting ways.

 

“Listen, Frank, if we don’t see each other again … for a while, I want you to know that any arguments we’ve got, well, it’s water under the bridge, so don’t … don’t let it weigh you down, got it?”

 

Frank takes a long drink from his flask, partly to mask his annoyance but mostly because it’s been _at least_ ten minutes since his last drink.

 

“Well, first of all, it doesn’t weigh me down,” says Frank, “so maybe you should think about taking your own advice.”

 

“That’s not what I -” PJ lets out a huffed breath. “I just meant, I want us to part of on decent terms this time. Just in case, well, anything happens.”

 

“Sure, fine,” says Frank, waving him off and turning away, “see you around PJ.”

 

“Yeah, see you around Frank,” says PJ, softly.

 

Frank rolls his eyes as he walks away. Subtlety was never PJ’s strong suit, but there’s no need to be so dramatic about it. It’s not as though it’s a surprise, the way he lives. Frank wonders, just for a moment, how much time is left on his clock before he shakes off the thought. It’s not as though there’s any way to know for sure.

 

It doesn’t matter. It’s _fine_.

  


He starts brushing his hair over his forehead after that, or pulling his hat low. It’s annoying to wear it that way, but people staring is far _more_ annoying, and not at all conducive when he’s trying to work, or, in most cases, drink, uninterrupted.

  


And then.

  


The spectre gives a loud _shriek_ as it’s sucked back into the ouija board. Frank regards it for a moment from his position on the ground. His palms sting a little from where he’d slammed into the thick carpet after a particularly strong supernatural push.

 

“Excuse me, Mr Doyle?”

 

A young woman is smiling down at him, and Frank has to take a moment to properly find his voice.

 

“I - Yes, Miss …?”

 

“Sadie Parker, darling. Are you hurt at all?”

 

 _Darling_ , Frank thinks, feeling a little dazed. Sadie has almost eighty years left, and Frank feels a twinge of something like regret that he probably doesn’t have that long to know her.

 

“Slightly bruised, and maybe a touch more sober than I’d like,” says Frank, “but otherwise unharmed.”

 

“Why, that’s easily remedied!” says Sadie brightly, “After all, a drink is the least we can do to thank you after your assistance tonight.”

 

She helps him up off the floor, and the moment their hands touch his forehead starts to _itch_ , and part of him thinks _oh this must be it_ and _not a bad way to go out_ and then …

 

… nothing happens.

 

Frank feels a curious mixture of disappointment at being wrong and an overwhelming wave of relief as Sadie guides him to a nearby couch.

 

“Oh _no_ , that shattered window has simply _ruined_ your shirt Mr Doyle,” says Sadie, brushing away small shards of glass that still cling to his coat lapels with her gloved hand.

 

“It’s fine, really,” says Frank.

 

Sadie leaves her hand for a few moments longer than is necessary on Frank’s chest, but he absolutely cannot bring himself to mind in the slightest. He wonders is she can feel his heart pounding.

 

“You sit right there, Mr Doyle,” says Sadie, giving him a small push backwards onto the couch, “and I’ll be right back with that drink.”

 

“An excellent plan if ever I head one, Miss Parker,” says Frank.

 

Franks watches her gracefully step over various debris to the liquor cabinet on the opposite side of the room, feeling slightly self conscious for the first time in a very long time. Sadie, despite being caught is the same spectral whirlwind as he was, looks as unruffled and calm as if she had been hiding out in the hall with the rest of the guests.

 

“One for you, and one for me,” says Sadie, handing him a very full glass, “as long as you don’t mind the company Mr Doyle.”

 

“Call me Frank, please,” says Frank, “and not at all Miss Parker. Please, sit down.”

 

“Oh, you _must_ call me Sadie,” says Sadie, sitting down next to him perhaps a touch closer than propriety  would allow, “I absolutely _insist_.”

 

“Well, Sadie,” Frank almost loses his train of thought as she beams at him, “Sadie, if you insist then I absolutely will.”

  


William Dreifuss, séance host and professional gadabout, is extremely thankful, shaking Frank’s hand enthusiastically before he leaves. Mr Dreifuss flicks his eyes up to the numbers on Frank’s forehead, and Frank already feels a surge of irritation about the change in tone that is surely about to take place. However, instead of the usual _concern_ , Mr Dreifuss gives Frank a small frown of confusion.

 

“What?” says Frank, feeling annoyed anyway.

 

“Oh, no, it’s nothing, I  could have sworn your numbers said -” Mr Dreifuss looks back up at Frank’s forehead, “... it’s nothing. I must have been seeing things, that’s all, with everything that’s happened.”

 

“You’re sure _what’s_ nothing?” says Frank.

 

“Frank?” says Sadie, gliding around the corner, “The taxi’s waiting. Did you still want to accompany me to that bar I was telling you about? They have the most _adorable_ little out-of-the-way booths where one can talk in privacy.”

 

“Like I said, I’m sure it was just my eyes playing tricks on me,” says Mr Dreifuss, “you two have fun.”

 

“I’m quite sure we will! Thank you, William,” says Sadie, putting her arm through Frank’s.

 

His forehead itches again. Mr Dreifuss makes a choking noise.

 

Sadie smiles at Frank, and leans her head a little on his shoulder as they walk into the cold night air. Although he’s not sure what Mr Dreifuss’ problem is, Frank’s sure that it can’t possibly be as important as this.

  


Frank starts to forget to keep his hat over his numbers after a while.

 

It’s strange - people don’t give him concerned looks nearly as often as they used to. He figures they must just be distracted by Sadie (heaven knows he certainly is, every moment of every day, in the best possible way). Weeks turn into months, and months turn into almost a year, and he forgets why he even started wearing his hat that way in the first place.

 

Sadie sometimes gives his numbers a curious look, but she never brings up the amount of time he has left (or rather, the lack thereof). When they’re together, time doesn’t seem to matter that much anyway.

  


The next time Frank sees PJ, he’s kicking down Frank’s front door. Frank assumes it’s something to do with the demon currently sitting on his lounge. It’s not necessary, obviously - Frank’s more than capable of sending demons back to hell when they cause problems, and this particular demon isn’t so much ‘causing problems’ as they are ‘helping Sadie pick out tablecloth linen (apparently being hundreds of years old gives you a great eye for colours).

 

There’s a moment of silence after PJ enters. Harvey screeches a greeting.

 

“Well,” says Frank, “I was hoping for a more pleasant introduction, but I suppose that can’t be helped. Sadie, this is Pterodactyl Jones and his partner Harvey, we worked together back in the day. Jonesy, this is Sadie Parker, my fiancée.”

 

“Lovely to meet you, Mr Jones, Harvey,” says Sadie, regarding PJ curiously.

 

PJ stares at Frank. “You’re supposed to be _dead_!”

 

“Well, putting aside how that is absolutely no way to start a conversation, obviously I am not dead,” says Frank, refilling their drinks.

 

“I should hope not,” says Sadie, flipping through fabric samples, “I imagine that would put quite the damper on the ceremony. What about this one?”

 

“I don’t think it’ll work,” says the demon, “It’s too close to the bridesmaid’s dresses.”

 

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right,” says Sadie, “Lucy will be dreadfully upset if she’s dressed the same as the furnishings.”

 

“No, but, your numbers,” says PJ, gesturing to his forehead (he still has a good sixty years left on his), “the last time I saw you, you only had months left, it should have run out by now.”

 

“Well, clearly you were mistaken,” says Frank.

 

Frank hands Sadie her refilled glass, and their hands brush. Sadie smiles up at him. Frank’s forehead itches, but it’s been doing that for a while now, so he ignores it and smiles back at her.

 

PJ flinches. “There, it just changed!”

 

“Did it?” says Sadie.

 

“You were _looking at him_ ,” says PJ, “how can you not have noticed?”

 

“Well, I don’t stare at his numbers,” says Sadie, “that would be dreadfully rude of me.”

 

“Look,” says Frank, “why don’t we take all this talk about how you think I’m supposed to be dead somewhere else, so you don’t disturb Sadie’s fabric choices.”

 

“Oh, he’s no bother, but if you’d rather go elsewhere I understand, darling. It does seem like a private matter.”

 

“I can’t think of anything it my life that I would ever want to keep private from you, Sadie love,” says Frank.

 

He leans over to refill her glass, and they clink them together.

 

“It just did it _again_!” splutters PJ.

 

“Hmm, perhaps you were right about your friend being a disturbance,” says Sadie, “Could you make a run down to the liquor store and have your discussion on the way? We _are_ running low on supplies.”

 

“Excellent plan, love. I’m sure we’ll have whatever PJ’s problem is sorted out by the time we get back,” says Frank, turning PJ around and pushing him towards the door. Harvey follows, ghosting through the wall.

 

“Don’t be too long darling,” says Sadie, “remember we’re supposed to give final names for the wedding party today and you are still to choose a best man.”

 

“Right you are, Sadie love, we won’t be too long,” says Frank, dragging PJ out of his apartment and down the stairs.

 

The liquor store sign glows bright at the end of the block. Sadie likes this particular store best because its sign features a neon pink flamingo (and also, it’s on the same block as Frank’s apartment).

 

“Frank, we really do have to talk about your clock,” says PJ.

 

“My what?” says Frank.

 

“You know, your _time_ ,” says PJ, tapping his own forehead.

 

“What about it?” says Frank.

 

“It’s like if you went to the bank and expected to find pennies, but instead you had a hundred bucks,” says PJ.

 

“So I’m ... pennies in this scenario?” says Frank, “You’d better stay out here Harvey, don’t want you knocking over anything I might want to drink later.”

 

Harvey screeches in agreement.

 

Frank pushes open the door to the liquor store, and nods a greeting to the owner as he grabs a basket, heading past the wine ( _awful_ ) to the liquor.

 

“No, you _were_ like pennies,” says PJ, “now, you’re like _hundreds_. But you’re not supposed to be in the red, not the black, you’re breaking the bank!”

 

“Yeah, that’s not really any clearer PJ,” says Frank, examining the labels of two whiskey bottles before adding them both to the basket.

 

“You must have noticed _something_ different,” says PJ.

 

“Different in what way?” says Frank distractedly.

 

He’s gotten enough bottles for the next day or so, which should last them until the weekly liquor delivery. PJ continues talking emphatically, while Frank looks at the bottles of brightly-coloured spirits lining the wall behind the counter. Sadie would probably like one, and maybe he could try out a recipe of some kind. He could get it for her as a gift, to make up for disturbing her planning session.

 

His forehead itches a little when he thinks about it. She hadn’t seemed annoyed though, smiling at him just as she always did. It was strange, even just thinking of her smiling made him want to smile, Sadie was so -

 

“There!” says PJ, shaking Frank’s arm roughly and breaking his train of thought, “your time just changed _again_ , how are you _doing_ that?”

 

Frank took PJ by the shoulders. “PJ, look. I don’t know what you think is happening right now, but I assure you, I am not doing anything.”

 

“But you must have been doing something,” says PJ.

 

“Well, right now I’m buying liquor, which I think we can both agree is a regular occurance,” says Frank, putting the basket of bottles on the counter. “And that bright blue one up there too,” he added, to the clerk.

 

“No, I meant something more out of the ordinary,” says PJ.

 

“You know me, PJ. I rarely make a change, and especially not when it comes to liquor.”

 

The clerk sets the blue bottle on the counter next to the others. Another reason Frank likes coming to this particular liquor store: no small talk.

 

“Actually, I don’t suppose there’s any way you could make this fancier,” says Frank, “it’s a gift.”

 

The clerk nods and, after some rustling under the counter pulled out a length of ribbon. “This okay, Mr Doyle?”

 

“Yes, that’s fine,” says Frank.

 

He imagined Sadie’s face on giving it to her. His forehead itched again, and PJ made a strangled noise.

 

“I really hope you’re not going to be doing that during the wedding ceremony,” says Frank, “Sadie’s parents think I’m unusual enough as it is.”

 

PJ silently helps Frank carry the bags on the way back, with a look on his face like he was trying to puzzle out a tough case.

 

“You know PJ, I’ve been thinking -”

 

“About how you’re controlling the hands of fate, like a time-turning traffic controller?” says PJ.

 

“No. About the whole,” Frank waves a hand, “me needing a best man for the wedding. How would you like that particular job?”

 

PJ trips on the stairs, and grabs the handrail to steady himself. “What?”

 

“Well, despite our difference of opinion regarding my current state of being alive, you and I go back a long enough way for you to qualify as a best man,” says Frank.

 

“Well, I don’t know what to say,” says PJ.

 

“Obviously Harvey would be included as well, as my, uh, best dinosaur,” says Frank.

 

Harvey screeched, pleased.

 

“Harvey, I can’t think of anyone better suited for the job,” says Frank, “that goes for you too, PJ.”

 

“Well, I’m honoured,” says PJ.

 

“Then that’s settled!” says Frank, “You’ll be at the wedding, and there’ll be no more of this time discussion.”

 

“But -”

 

“Sorry PJ, only wedding talk from now on,” says Frank, “I can only handle so many metaphors on a theme at once.”

  


At some point after the ruckus of fabric choosing, shooing PJ out of the apartment, and sending Sadie’s demonic friend back to their particular hell (temporarily of course, they were to be one of Sadie’s bridesmaids after all), Frank had closed his eyes for just a moment, and was now opening them again to find that he had fallen asleep.

 

The afternoon sun was coming through the window. Frank wriggles down slightly, so the patch of sunlight isn’t in his eyes. Sadie, who’s lying half on top of him with her head resting on his chest, curls further into him, pressing her face into his chest and away from the light. She settles back into sleep, her breaths deep and even (and snoring just a little, but Frank thinks it’s absolutely _adorable_ ).

 

Frank’s forehead itches, and he rubs it absentmindedly. It wasn’t that he never thought of his numbers any more, it was more like they were brought to his attention less. In fact, Frank couldn’t remember the last time someone had reacted like PJ had done. But the thought that he was doing something to change the amount of time he had? Ridiculous. No one could do that, let alone without realising it.

_All those dames must be messing with his head_ , thinks Frank.

 

Sadie makes a sleepy noise, distracting Frank from his thoughts. He kisses the top of her head, and after a few moments, she blinks sleepily up at him.

 

“Oh, is it afternoon already?” says Sadie, “good afternoon, darling.”

 

“Good afternoon, Sadie love,” says Frank., “I must say, I wasn’t intending to fall asleep but this is a rather wonderful way to wake up.”

 

Sadie smiles. “Just think, soon we’ll be waking up like this all of the time.”

 

“Oh no, not all of the time,” says Frank.

 

“No?”

 

“No, I expect we’ll make it to the bedroom _some_ of the time,” says Frank.

 

“Well, we certainly have the rest of our lives to _try_ ,” says Sadie cheerfully.

 

Frank’s feeling of warm comfort fades. “Yes, for however long that is.”

 

Sadie sits up, her hand still resting lightly on his chest. Her hair is coming out from its’ style a little, tendrils falling over her face as she leans over him. “Frank, is something wrong?”

 

Frank tucks the errant hair behind Sadie’s ear. “I suppose all this business with PJ has got me thinking about it. I know I don’t have long -”

 

“Franklin Eternal Flame Doyle don’t you say that! You have quite a long time to go now.”

 

“Now?” says Frank, “So PJ was right, my time _is_ changing?”

 

“Well, yes,” says Sadie.

 

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

 

“Well I didn’t notice right away,” says Sadie, “not for … oh, months, probably. Like I told your friends Mr Jones, it would be simply uncivilised of me to stare at someone’s numbers whilst they were speaking to me.”

 

“So you really didn’t notice what my number was when we met?” asks Frank.

 

“Well, yes and no,” says Sadie, “I’m sure that I did at some point, but I’m equally sure I can’t remember what it was. I _do_ remember being quite distracted by a handsome young man.”

 

“What handsome young man?” says Frank, suspiciously.

 

“Why, _you_ of course”

 

“Why me, of _course_.”

 

Sadie laughs, and leans down to kiss him, slowly and deeply. Frank’s feeling of warm comfort returns, as if Sadie was breathing it into him.

 

“How much time _do_ I have left?” asks Frank when they pause for breath.

 

Sadie smooths the hair back from Frank’s forehead, looking serious. “A very long time.”

  
“As long as I can spend it with you love, it will have been time well spent,” says Frank.

**Author's Note:**

> special bonus/deleted scene (that wouldn't fit but I loved too much to throw out entirely): http://mariusperkins.tumblr.com/post/104314864762/bonus-after-credits-scene-just-for-tumblr


End file.
